The White Angel
by Midnight Circus
Summary: In nursery, Ryoga meets an angel


**Snuck in a few minutes again on the comp. Bit Ryoga obsessed at the moment. This story thing is very random**

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"Ryoga," The man bent down, long hair rippling with the movement, "Ryoga, that's your name, isn't it?"

Ryoga slapped a large mound of play-doh onto the wooden table, watching it compress a little before rolling it out into a sheet. Besides throwing pink flecks of clay behind him, he completely ignored the man.

"Ryoga," The man said gently, but still firmer than before, "You have to share, Toto-chan here wants the pink."

Ryoga turned a sulking face towards the man, poking at the pale cheek with a finger. The play-doh had gotten under his fingernails, staining some of the cuticles a bright pink. The man flinched back, frowning disapprovingly. Ryoga returned to his play-doh, continuing to wrap up imaginary dumplings.

"Ryoga…"

The young boy had given up on making food, moulding a rough hat shape and pressing it firmly into his dark locks, "King!" He said in a childishly high voice, "King!"

The man chuckled, reaching out his slender fingers to dislodge the ridiculous headdress, only to have his hand slapped away ferociously, "_Mine_! King!"

The man stared, shaking his head and smiling in bemusement, powerless.

"Toto-chan, do you think green is oka—" even before he finished the sentence, Ryoga had already reached over and snatched away the green, emptying the container before sticking the green dots onto his 'crown', presumably as emeralds.

"Sensei!" the girl gave Ryoga's elbow a rough shove, reaching out towards the green dough. Ryoga fell off his chair, but immediately bounced up and proceeded to pull at the girl's hair. The pink hair ribbon came off, and the untied dark curls were ruthlessly seized by play-doh laden hands.

The girl shrieked, flailing her arms about as she tried to remove Ryoga's hands from her hair. The man looked around helplessly for a moment, before grabbing Ryoga's offending arm and giving it a tight squeeze, not hard enough to cause permanent damage, but enough to make the boy yell in genuine pain and release the black hair.

"Ryoga!" The man scolded, taking advantage of the boy;s momentary demureness and pulling the crown off the boy's head. He removed as much green as he could and handed the leftover pink to the sobbing Toto-chan, who was clutching at her head as if terrified her scalp would fall off.

"There you go, Toto-chan, don't cry anymore. Crying makes you ugly, you know." The little preschooler immediately dried her tears and forced a watery smile. She would not be ugly.

"Ryoga, what do you have to say to Toto-chan," The man frowned at the boy pointedly.

Ryoga scrunched up his nose, looking in the opposite direction, muttering, "Sorry."

The girl giggled, pressing wet, saliva coated lips towards Ryoga's left cheek, holding it there for two seconds before pulling away, still tittering, all anger at the pulling-hair incident forgotten, "Ryoga-chan cute!" She skipped away, pink play-doh in hand, ready to add the final touches to her sakura flowers. After she disappeared into the adjoining room, Ryoga began rubbing furiously at the wet spot on his cheek, mumbling non-stop with a tomato red face. The man threw his long white hair back and laughed, pale eyes squinting in amusement.

"Akira, honey, my shift's over so we can leave now. Are you doing alright?"

The man turned to face the lady who had just entered, his eyes lighting up once he saw who it was, "Yes. Children really are the sweetest."

"Aren't they?" She tiptoed to plant a light kiss on the man's white face. Ryoga stuck out his lower lip before setting his bottom resolutely on the short plastic stool, making little images on the green dough with his short fingernails. Akira laughed again, ruffling the little boy's hair whilst dislodging bits of play-doh stuck in it.

"Well, Ryoga," Akira started smoothly, "Will you miss onii-chan here? You won't see him again," He said teasingly, in a unusually sing-song voice. Ryoga's pout grew more pronounced, and he scowled at the crouching man, reaching out a short chubby finger to the hanging curtain of white hair.

His fingers ran straight against the smooth hair, and Ryoga cocked his head to one side, before curiously putting a lock into his mouth. He spat it out amidst shouts of laughter and wiped his tongue with his play-dohed fingers, puckering his brows and grimacing, "pretty." He declared his verdict, "Not tasty." He shook his head to accentuate the point.

The lady recovered from her laughing fit and said kindly, "Ryoga, that's hair. You can't eat hair."

"Not hair," Ryoga insisted, "White. Not hair."

The man shared a look with the lady before standing up to his full height, "Nevermind, darling, let's go now."

Ryoga watched the man leave, a sudden fear gripping at his chest, "nii-san."

Almost in slow motion, the man turned around, flipping his white bangs out of pink eyes, "Yes, Ryoga?" He said kindly.

"Tomorrow?"

The man was taken aback for a moment, before his face broke into an almost… angelic smile, "Tomorrow," he affirmed. He raised a fair hand waving goodbye, and Ryoga felt himself mesmerized by this white beauty, whose pale skin contrasted so much with Ryoga's tanned ones, his grace so different from Ryoga's awkward bumbling movement. Ryoga stared at the same spot long after the man had disappeared, the swish of long, white hair replaying itself again and again in his head.

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**Hope you enjoyed it!**


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